


Night Walker

by Sukuangtou



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Butler, Gen, Night, Walking, bed, confused, master - Freeform, sleeping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-06
Updated: 2013-12-06
Packaged: 2018-01-03 20:49:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1072913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sukuangtou/pseuds/Sukuangtou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Patrolling the corridors of the manor late one night, Sebastian finds his little master standing alone in the hallway, but something's not right. Slightly fluffy, one-shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Night Walker

Passageways echoed his each step forward as his heeled leather shoes, polished to perfection, strode him forward confidently upon the stone floors of the servants quarters. Waxy candles dripping long tears of cream down their bodies, rested within the glistening golden candelabra settled in his hand, casting his threatening shadow behind him like a silent ghoul patrolling the hallways. His feet met carpet, a luscious crimson red spilling out before him in a lake, drifting over the shiny oak floorboards until it reached a door, the wood white and the handle round, decorated with spirals, twists and turns. 

Creaking, the door moaned against its hinges and he entered the entrance hall, black and white checked tiles cutting the carpet off in its tracks. High windows, inches below the ceiling, delicately glowed the moons rays into the room, dust dancing in turns as they caught the light and the frame of the pane shadowed onto the floor. Stepping forward a few paces, he came to a halt in the light, his eyes drifting up to the ever-watching moon above. How much had that very moon seen in its lifetime, or even this very night? Floating up there in the bleak sky like there wasn’t a care in the world while the people of Earth lived and died beneath its emotionless gaze, entire lifespans being played out like a theatre show until the final curtain fell. 

Suddenly snickering at his own pathetic curiosity, he turned his back to it, walking quietly, slowly, over to the giant staircase that loomed over the entrance hall as if the stairs to greater worlds. The eyes of the former Earl followed him as he climbed; the fixed smile seemly taunt and strained as he stood next to his lady wife, her own face softly smiling down at him. Turning away, he continued his journey down the endless abyss of corridors, bringing the soft light of the candles over the dusted furniture, pictures and antiques. 

Soon, his sharp, fine-tuned hearing picked up the sounds of feet; gentle, quiet feet padding over the plush thorn-green floor, heading carefully down the corridor linked to the end of his. Narrowing his wine orbs, he swiftly blows at the wax sticks, extinguishing the flames until they remained nothing more than a twist of smoke. Abandoning them on a round, chocolate-coloured table, he crept forward, slinking his body close to the rose-patterned wallpaper coating the fine wood and brick of the house, much like a stealthy feline stalking her unseen prey. Now, each foot was delicately placed before the other, soundless, hunting. The other footsteps stopped abruptly, causing him to freeze still by the corner of the wall. Waiting for his prey to move, he remained motionless, frozen in time. 

Waiting turned into seconds.

Then minutes. 

Gritting his fangs in an annoyed mixture of impatience and tiredness at their little game, he spun out, lashing his arm forward to stab the intruder with his ready glistening knife in his grip while his legs crouched inwards to kick out.

But it wasn’t an intruder, quite the opposite.

Snapping to a stop just in time, he stumbled, only just missing the young boy, resulting with him toppling backwards and onto his behind with a loud thud. Emotionless façade slipping onto his face with practiced ease, he shot up to his feet and started brushing himself down in disgrace and embarrassment of his actions before bowing low, hand over heart and vortex black hair framing his pale face. 

“Young Master,” The words flowed steadily, without a single trace of the shame or foreign clumsiness he inwardly felt, “I apologise humbly for my actions. May I inquire as to why you are out of bed at such a late hour?” He stayed low, face to the floor not daring to glance up at his little Master’s face. Damn it, why hadn’t he been more careful? He usually had much more grace than this, for the very reason to avoid this kind of humiliation in front of any soul, let alone the young Phantomhive. This kind of slip up wouldn’t be tolerated if the Young Master was to keep his faith in him, to be able to protect and serve him as the high-class butler and protector he should be. No, he wouldn’t tolerate this kind of mess up again. 

He continued waiting for a reply, bowing like the grovelling dog to his master, a mere child. Was he ignoring him on purpose? This was a back-breaking position to hover in and he could already feel the bones of his spine ach dully with the strain. He tried again, this time dragging his orbs to the still form standing before him.  
“Young Master? Is everything alright?” His eyes met with his Master’s face, which wasn’t even facing him, taking in the pallid, almost bloodless skin that glowed an ivory-white in the moonlight trickling in through an open window of the corridor. His eyes had strayed out of the mansion, half-open and wearily as if struggling to stay awake, watching the garden and the creatures of the night below. Allowing a frown to cross his features, he straightened, feeling his spine click as he did so before tilting his head and taking a cautious step closer. He hadn’t hit him, had he? Scanning the shirt clad boy, he detected no sign of injury, blood or bruise. Maybe a fever? Making sure his movements were gradual, careful, he raised his hand to the child’s forehead, feeling for any change in temperature or stickiness of sweat. Nothing. His Master didn’t even seem to acknowledge his presence. 

“Young Master, are you feeling well? Did you have another night-“ Before he could finish his question, his Master pulled his head away, his movements sluggish and heavy, then, as if nothing had happened, he walked past, merging into the mouth of the darkness. 

This was something he couldn’t ignore.

Wandering through the mansion at this time of night dressed only in flimsy, too big shirt would easily give his Master a chill or, worsted still, could lead to abduction from one of his many enemies that paid regular visits at this hour. Following after the boy he quickly caught up, stepping in front of him and placing his firm hands on his Master’s skinny shoulders. Kneeling down, he studies the child’s features again, trying to detect any kind of sickness that might have made him this way. He shook him a little; still receiving no response, then took his pulse. All appeared normal. 

“Young Master, did I do something to displease you?” Nothing. “Won’t you talk to me, Sir?” Not a sound. What could be causing this? His Master had been in good health a few hours previous, enjoying the light teasing they both shared as he had helped him settle for the night. What had gone wrong?  
“Sebastian…” Whispered, almost to the point of not making any sound at all, his Master spoke, eyes still somewhere else, staring at the corridor behind him.  
“Young Master?” He replied, not knowing what else to say, which was a feeling uncomfortably new to him.  
“Kill them,” This shocked him, causing his head to jerk back in confusion and his eyes to blink. Kill who? Who else was there with them?  
“Young Master, forgive me, but I do not understand. Who do you wish me to kill?”  
“Them…”  
“’Them’ Sir? I need you to be more specific for me; I do not know who you are talking about,”  
“That’s an order…”  
“I understand that, Young Master, but whom are you speaking off?” He tilted the child’s head upwards by hooking his fingers under his chin, lifting the mixed coloured orbs to his own. Despite now sharing eye contact, his Master still seemed unaware of his surroundings, his blue and purple focus covered by a milky swirl that suggested that his Master wasn’t with him at all.  
“Elizabeth died…” Now his voice wobbled, hiding behind it what sounded like a small whimper, something his Master never did, “Tanaka…”  
Ah, now he understood. Smiling to himself while suppressing a light chuckle, he stood back up, letting go of the boy’s chin before leaning down like a scolding parent, keeping one hand on his little shoulders and noting the cooling skin in the nights lack of heat.  
“Young Master, I believe it’s time for bed,” He said firmly, but quietly, watching the child’s reaction as he tiredly digested the information, “You have a long schedule tomorrow and I believe if you stay up like this you will suffer for it,”  
“Bed?” He asked innocently, childishly, now turning as if a bed would appear right next to him on the spot, “Where…?”  
“You are sleepwalking, Young Master,” He explained, gently beginning to guide him along back the way he’d came, “And now you must return to bed,” His Master nodded, lifting a hand to rub his only natural-coloured eye as a wide yawn took over his mouth. He grinned again, how easy it was to forget his Master’s age. This was the side of him he rarely ever got to see. In a way, it was nice. Taking his time as to not wake his Master from his half-sleep, he eventually found himself pushing the already open door to his bedroom out of their way, leading the boy over to the safety of the duvet. His Master waited by the side of the bed, still staring onward. 

“Young Master, do you need assistance?” Leaning down again, he realised that the boy had drifted back into his silent state, no longer realising that his butler was at his side. Sighing, he carefully took the child in his arms, lifting him and lying him down on the soft mattress and pillows before covering him, tucking the sheets up under his chin. A strand of hair fell over his barely open eyes, which he gently brushed away before placing his gloved-hand over his eyelids, pulling them down so they shut fully. His Master relaxed noticeably, now back in the comfort of his bed and falling limp with exhaustion after his little adventure. Task complete, he stepped over to the door and silently closed it before standing in front of it, facing the bed. 

And, when his little Lord decided to embark on a brand new journey in the pit of night, he was softly, carefully, taken back to his bed, tucked back in and settled once more into the calm abyss of sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it.
> 
> Sorry for any spelling errors.
> 
> do not own 'Black Butler'
> 
> Leave a comment!


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